


The path to Cupcakes

by Feelingsinwinter, MassiveSpaceWren



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Major Character Injury, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelingsinwinter/pseuds/Feelingsinwinter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/pseuds/MassiveSpaceWren
Summary: Recovering is never an easy thing but Bucky isn't alone in the process. Although, some mistakes might happen along the way.5 times Bucky hurt Tony + 1 time he didn't.[Fic by Feelingsinwinter, Art by MassiveSpaceWren]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dapperanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism/gifts).



> This was started as a project for [Dapperahachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism/)'s birthday but I am awfully late, I'm so sorry to be so late. I really hope you will like it. The (amazing) art is from [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/pseuds/MassiveSpaceWren).
> 
> Happy Birthday, Dappydou !

There was something quite surreal in sitting on a couch besides one James Buchanan Barnes. Tucked under the man’s arm and enjoying the heat he was producing, Tony felt comfier than he would have expected when it came to cuddling with a former assassin. Natasha was good and nice, she was also very cuddly when nobody was looking, but she had nothing on Bucky, who, Tony thought, nobody would have pegged as a cuddler.

Nor as someone who liked to watch animated movies made for children. Yet, here they were for the third time this week, huddled in one side of the common room’s couch, entirely ignoring the available space in order to stick together.

Bucky had tucked his arm around Tony, keeping him close. Sometimes, seemingly unaware and unable to help himself from doing it, he was playing with the hair on the back of Tony’s neck, which shouldn’t feel as good as it did. It distracted Tony from the movie to focus solely on the motion of fingers against the nape of his neck, bringing up goosebumps and making Tony’s eyes heavier by the minute. It was a feather light touch, drawing random patterns over his skin and when Bucky grew tired of it, he settled his hand over Tony’s neck, his thumb rubbing back and forth, gentle and slow, an even rhythm that didn’t help Tony in keeping his eyes open.

Feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, Tony had let his head fall down on Bucky’s shoulder, curling his legs under him and feeling ready to have a small nap. His eyes sure as hell felt like closing, made heavy by the distracting pattern rubbed on his skin and the contented feeling growing in his chest. He felt more loose and comfortable than he ever felt while lying down in his bed, waiting for sleep to find and take him.

As he settled more comfortably against Bucky, cuddled up to him close enough that most of his body was plastered against the soldier’s side, Tony basked in the heat and the smell. He yawned sleepily, nuzzling against Bucky’s throat to find a comfortable way to settle down and indulge in the sleepiness creeping up on him.

Bucky hummed, a deep, rumbling sound that made Tony smile from where his ear was pressed against Bucky’s shoulder. He could hear it, feel it, and the hand that lowered itself from his neck to his waist, the thumb never stopping its gentle rubbing, only made him relax even further.

Tony could almost feel Morpheus’ embrace when, suddenly, Bucky tensed. The shoulder where Tony’s head rested, lax and comfy a second ago, became as hard as steel. The hand and fingers on Tony’s side, that were caressing and gently rubbing over the fabric of his shirt, was now painfully tight over his ribs, making Tony wince and shift uncomfortably, brows pinched in worry. Bucky’s soothing, cosy embrace had become a prison, holding Tony tight, squeezing him close as the body against his started shaking.

Tony straightened as much as he was able to and looked up at Bucky, worried. The fingers digging into Tony’s ribs weren’t shaking, unlike the rest of Bucky’s body. His eyes, wide and frightened, showed more white than blue, the pupils dilated almost to the point of swallowing the thin ring of iris. Bucky’s breathing had quickened dangerously, his chest raising more than his lungs drew air, the rhythm faltering more often than not.

“You ok, cupcake?”

Panic attacks were a common occurrence among the Avengers but it was the first time Tony saw Bucky falling prey to them. He knew, though, that they happened, that much was obvious and to be expected, but usually Bucky was good at avoiding triggers and would stay alone when he felt like the day would be bad enough that he would rather avoid company altogether. His face was ashen and his forehead glistening with sweat, he looked terrified and lost.

Tony glanced at the TV where the movie, Anastasia, was still playing. The voices of the characters fell to the background in favor of the staccato of an ongoing train and, as Tony realized, a landscape of snow, in the distance a broken bridge over a never ending void. He knew that scene, it was when Dimitri had to lie down beneath the speeding train to attach some chains and almost got hit by something, only staying up because of Anastasia’s help.

Something told him, unable to keep loathing and dripping venom from its voice, that watching a movie with that kind of scene without warning Bucky beforehand had been a mistake. Not that Tony had remembered that specific scene when he had proposed the movie to an exhausted Bucky who looked like he had just woken up from a nightmare and searching for an excuse to stay awake.

Mind still foggy from the light doze Tony had almost slipped into, he wriggled until he had a little more room to manoeuver, holding back a wince when Bucky’s fingers didn’t slacken their hold around his ribs. Mindful of the idea that, maybe, talking to JARVIS might not be a good idea at the moment, Tony stretched and reach out for the remote.

Before he knew it, though, and as his fingers brushed over the side of it, Bucky’s fingers retreated from his ribs and the body beside Tony’s moved lightning fast. A solid punch landed on Tony’s other side, making him gasp and lose his balance. Flailing to find purchase and stay even remotely upright, Tony failed and landed hard on the ground. Quickly remembering hard learned lessons, he rolled to the side to get out of reach but a bare foot found his back and kicked him right between the shoulderblades. Panting for air, Tony rose to his knees, hands open and at the ready, mind reeling from the sudden movement and unable to catch up.

He thought he could dodge a punch, find his balance and get in the fight. However, before Tony could see it, a fist caught him off guard and he dropped to the floor, darkness swallowing him too fast to be fought off but not fast enough to spare him the blast of pain erupting from his face.

***

For a couple of agonizing slow thinking minutes, Tony wondered why in the fucking hell his ass had landed in the medbay. Again.

He remembered a cozy night with Bucky, cuddled up in the couch and pretending to watch a movie all the while enjoying probably a little too much the lazy fingers petting his hair and caressing his skin.

Something moved in the corner of his eye, but before Tony could catch a glimpse of it, the door to his room closed quietly, leaving him alone with nothing but guesses and questions.

Frowning at the closed door, Tony sighed and shifted on his pillows, wincing when his ribs protested. He settled, trying to find a more comfortable position and, knowing he wouldn’t find any as long as he stayed there, Tony joined his hands in his lap and let his mind run wild. The pace of his thoughts was slower than usual but nothing that stopped him from processing the different places where his body ached. There was nothing concerning, aside maybe from his ribs but he knew they weren’t broken. His nose, however, was definitely broken and that, on the other hand, sucked big time.

He was feeling around the side of the bed, knowing he had been taken to one of the rooms that were actually made for his sorry ass and that a tablet with his name on it was waiting to be found, when it all came back like a slap to the face. He froze, the tip of his fingers brushing against the hard border of a tablet but he couldn’t care less about it now.

Tony held back an exasperated sigh. Train, snow, almost falling and of course he had suggested that kind of fucking movie for Bucky to watch mindlessly after another nightmare. Why the fuck not rub the poor guy’s nose in one of what might probably be his worse memories? And feature in some, if not most, of his goddamn nightmares? The same ones Bucky was very much trying to escape at that moment?

What a surprise, Tony thought bitterly. Bucky was looking for some reprieve from his nightmares and Tony just so happened to be there. What could go wrong?

Of fucking course he had made it worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Even though it happened two months ago, being paired up with Bucky, after the whole mess in the communal room, felt particularly awkward. Especially since Bucky had made a point in avoiding Tony ever since it had happened. Tony might be oblivious to a lot of things but being avoided wasn’t one of them. It hurt, but Bucky had every right to act the way he did, so Tony didn’t do anything about it. He let it go without saying a word, hoping one day Bucky would be able to forgive him enough to spend time in the same room without looking like he had bitten on a lemon.

This time, however, there was no escaping it. Each member of the team had been paired so as to have one close and long range fighter. Natasha was with Sam, Steve with Clint and Tony with Bucky, the whole point being to gain experience with people they aren’t partnered with usually to improve team and battle dynamics. The poor guy hadn’t let any emotion appear on his face when Steve had paired them together.

Bucky had stared straight at Steve, eyes blank and expressionless, not even reacting to Steve’s smirk. Though, if Tony was to believe the sound of a bursted balloon Steve made when Bucky went past him, Bucky might have gotten his revenge.

A.I.M. activity had been spotted near the site and the responsibility of the abandoned warehouse had fallen to Bucky and Tony, which was fair and perfectly alright since Steve and Sam had gotten the sewers and if Bucky hadn’t looked smug at that point, Tony was willing to eat his gauntlet. The layout of the warehouse had been found on the internet by Jarvis and they were proceeding to the lower basement when activity showed up on Tony’s HUD.

The rest of the place was mostly empty, rooms dusty except for the places were furniture used to be but had been recently moved. A.I.M. was about to move location and Tony would be damned if they didn’t catch someone, anyone, before they could move forward with their plans and disappear into the wind.

He warned Bucky of active electrical power currents ahead, indicating that the next set of rooms were occupied. JARVIS was also detecting a flow of data coming out and was intercepting it, downloading it to his server.

Going in the old fashion way seemed like the only plan. Aside from the door, there were not many ways to get in and both Tony and Bucky agreed that, while going through a wall could create the element of surprise, it also offered the agents inside another way out, which would go against their plans of capturing one of them for further questioning.

What they weren’t expecting, however, when they burst through the door, rifle raised and gauntlets whining, was to find HYDRA agents instead of A.I.M.

There wasn’t much of Bucky’s face that was visible, what with the mask and the goggles with their built-in HUD covering most of it, but Tony saw it all the same.

In the blink of an eye Bucky had gone from focused and energy efficient to gaining an edge of brutality and ruthlessness. Before Tony could so much as open his mouth to stop or convince him to not kill them, the man was through the room, the first agent flying backward and hitting the wall. The sickening crack informed Tony of all he needed to know: whatever information they thought they could get from those men, they wouldn’t get it. Not if Bucky kept going at them like that.

Blinded by his rage, Bucky kept attacking, making mistakes and being careless of his own safety. His rifle, thrown to the ground and forgotten, was picked up by a HYDRA Agent, but Tony shot him in the chest. After that, it was a mess and a blur. Bucky had lost any and all conscious thought, attacking regardless of his own personal safety, entirely ignoring Tony’s presence, which made it harder for him to work by his side and take out the agents.

Not that Bucky let him. He seemed determined to take them all down by himself, fists flying and legs kicking with brutality. Over the coms, Tony could hear Bucky snarl and growl. Wild sounds that were as concerning as those of pain and death that he tore from his targets with each strike.

Until there was no one left standing, besides Bucky and Tony.

“I think you forgot one important point, there, Buck-a-roo,” Tony said, startling Bucky. “We needed informa-”

The punch caught the side of the helmet and Tony stumbled backwards, caught off-guard. He probably should have known or at least guessed what would happen,, what with Bucky’s behavior.

However, this time, Tony wasn’t sleepy and bleary-eyed. When Bucky threw the next punch, snarling angrily, Tony caught it, closing his metal-encased fingers around Bucky’s fist and holding them a few inches from his face.

“Stand down, Soldier,” he bit out, each word distinct and cutting.

When Tony blocked his metal arm the same way, intercepting a punch to his still-tender ribs, Bucky headbutted the armor hard enough to make Tony wince. His hands remained steadily holding Bucky’s fists, gripping them tight enough to hurt and, if he wasn’t careful, he might even break Bucky’s flesh hand, but, at this point, Tony wasn’t about to let Bucky harm him any further.

Even with Bucky’s hatred and resentment of him about the movie, Tony knew enough about guilt to recognize it in the way Bucky had looked at him when Tony had come back from the medbay. Bucky resented him, which was understandable as all shit, but he also felt guilty about injuring someone in the middle of a panic attack.

Tony would not let Bucky injure him again. They might not ever get any more movie nights, not after the cluster fuck of the last time, but Tony sure as hell was not about to make Bucky hurt any more than he had to.

“I’m not HYDRA!”

Tony’s cry fell on deaf ears. Using Tony’s grip to hold him upright, Bucky jumped and slammed both of his feet into the armor’s chestplate, making Tony stumble backward and letting go of Bucky’s hands to avoid injuring him.

“Ok, have it your way,” Tony said, making a beckoning gesture with his hand. “Let’s dance, buddy.”

Honestly, if Tony hadn’t been the one on the receive end of it, the Winter Soldier charging at him, all raw power and destructive anger, might have been impressive. In the current situation, Tony was all too aware of the possibly deadly outcome of it if he didn’t tread carefully.

***

The rest of the Avengers arrived later, breathless and worried sick after hearing Iron Man’s call for help and summary of the situation. They couldn’t come earlier, being themselves stuck fighting other agents, as surprised as Tony and Bucky had been to find HYDRA instead of A.I.M. Minus the panic-attack and lashing out from a team member, obviously.

They found Tony’s armor battered and broken in places, but standing and the man alive despite the damages. At his feet laid the Winter Soldier, chest rising and falling evenly. His flesh hand was raw and bleeding around the joints but, aside from what might be bruises and minor injuries, he looked in good condition.

At Clint’s bewildered stare, Tony shrugged, his wince visible through the half torn mask.

“He lost it when he saw they were HYDRA, then attacked me when there was nobody left to fight. He’s good, Cap, I promise,” he added quickly when he saw Steve’s panicked and pained expression. “He lost consciousness in the middle of the fight.”

“What about you?”

Natasha came closer, her eyes hovering over Bucky’s body before focusing on Tony’s armor once she was assured of Bucky’s wellbeing. Her hand roved from one crack in the armor to another, taking in the damage. She remained expressionless, but the slight frown was clear and obvious to anyone who knew her well enough. Tony smiled down at her, trying for soft and comforting but missing by a mile with his split lip and bloody nose.

“I’m fine, the armor took most of the damage. Mostly bruises and cuts, nothing serious.”

She stared at him, hard and deadly serious. Tony snorted.

“I swear, Tasha. I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, before crouching beside Bucky’s body. She pressed two fingers to his neck, checking his pulse. She needed to make sure he was ok. She gently brushed a few strands away from the man’s forehead.

“Your word is my command,” Tony said, mock saluting her and yelping when something pinched his shoulder, reminding him the armor’s rough edges had pushed inward and they were sharp.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing art is from Wren, it's so good, I still can't believe it!

Tony stumbled out of the elevator, yawning and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Clothes rumpled and hair stuck up in every direction, he padded through the common room barefooted. He spared a glance to the side, noticing that, for once, nobody was on the couch and going through one of those despairing sleepless nights that were a common occurrence for each and every one of them.

Though, if Tony was to believe the sounds coming out from the kitchen, it didn’t mean nobody besides him was awake.

Sighing, mind sluggish and eyes stinging with exhaustion, Tony made a beeline for the kitchen. He was coming up from a workshop binge that had lasted probably way too long but the project had caught up with him and, if hunger hadn’t lured him out before, it couldn’t have been that long. As it was, wearing sweatpants and a tank top that had seen better days, Tony shuffled in with a soft smile when he realized Bucky was the one occupying the premises, seemingly busy cooking something.

Rubbing at his left eye once again and frowning at the was it stung, Tony circled the kitchen’s counter to get to the fridge. He had come up there with the intent of drinking some milk before going to bed, which was something he could have done from his own floor, truth been told, but Tony never did something without a reason. Most of the time, anyway. Tonight, the idea of sleeping alone didn’t appeal to him, despite the blatant need to sleep, so the communal floor was the best choice in order to get some company and maybe sleep there, hopefully not alone. The couches were comfortable enough not to hurt his back anyway and as long as he slept, everything was well and good, right?

As he got closer to Bucky, Tony stood on the tip of his toes, trying to peer over Bucky’s shoulders and get a glimpse of what the man was doing, to no avail. Bucky was almost bent over the counter and Tony was entirely unable to see anything at all. Pouting, he leaned forward, setting a hand on the small of Bucky’s back and patting his shoulder with the other:

“Hey there, Buck-a-roo, what’re you up to?”

Bucky whirled around, face expressionless and blank in a mask Tony was starting to be all too familiar with. Bucky was standing, tall and threatening, his knees just barely flexed and shoulders lax, ready to engage. He looks terrifying, Tony thought, and so amazing it’s a wonder nobody realized how wonderful Bucky Barnes was. The way his eyes were focused and alert, as sharp as Clint’s when he was wielding his bow, if not more. There was a whole world of violence hiding behind the blue grey of Bucky’s eyes. The kind of controlled violence that made people go weak in the knees.

Tony was looking up into them, watching them, reading them, admiring them, so it was no wonder he was able to see the moment the sharp edge of the killer ready to fend for himself, faded away. Bucky’s eyes were widening almost comically and Tony couldn’t help it. He giggled, biting his lips to try and muffle the sound. Because the situation was all kind of fucked up, Tony knew it already, and it was that or crying. Slowly, at the same time and with the same kind of reluctance, they both looked down.

They knew what they would find but it was still a shock to see the kitchen knife sticking out of Tony’s guts, Bucky’s hand still wrapped around its handle.

It didn’t even hurt, Tony thought dazedly. There was some kind of cold coming from it, though, spreading like ice water through his veins. Or maybe was it fear? Both? Both sounded good, he thought hysterically.

His eyes drifted to the side, now, with the whole counter laid out for him to see, he could finally see what Bucky was doing in the kitchen in the first place. There were eggs and butter and flour, everywhere but mostly in a bowl, ready to be used for…

“Were you baking?” Tony asked in disbelief, voice wobbling around laughter before delving into another fit of uncontrollable giggles. Bucky was talking to him, Tony thought distractedly, not hearing a single word or, more likely, hearing them without taking the time to actually process them.

The knife was still sticking out of his belly and Tony couldn’t find in him a single fuck to give about it.

The Winter Soldier was baking. In his kitchen.

And there was flour on his nose and high up on his cheeks and Tony couldn’t held it back any longer. He choked out a laugh, whimpering when it jostled the knife, startling Bucky and, suddenly, like someone had reversed their positions, the terrifying man looked terrified.

It was Bucky’s terror that broke the haze Tony was in, pulling him out of it. Breathing through his nose and refusing to acknowledge the weight of terror settling down behind where he could feel the blade piercing his skin and he didn’t want to know what else, Tony looked down again. His hands were instinctively covering the wound and around the knife, and there was blood slipping sluggishly between his fingers. His black tank top wasn’t showing much of anything besides where blood was being absorbed by the fabric, but his pants, a soft, slightly dirty cream, were darkening to the color of dark red.

The terror spread and reached his shoulders, taking hold of his back, going down and weakening his knees and making his thighs feel like jelly.

Tony swallowed with difficulty past the lump in his throat.

A glance up at Bucky revealed the man was frozen on the spot, eyes wide and terrified and face ashen, white as a sheet. His lips, slightly parted, were letting out rushed out breaths that would have worried Tony if he wasn’t feeling like puking and crying and dying and crying some more.

 

The cold was giving place to a burning kind of hell and Tony whimpered as he looked down again, wanting nothing more than to take out the knife and throw it to the ground and run somewhere and hide under his covers, hoping to forget everything and maybe this was all a nightmare. All of that because Tony wanted a glass of milk like the fucking child he was, because he didn’t want to be alone like the needy coward Howard had always said he was. And because Tony didn’t know better than to startle a fucking assassin in a goddamned kitchen full of sharp knives.

This was all a nightmare and Tony could only blame himself.

“I’m sorry,” he managed, tears running down his face as sobs wracked his frame.

His fingers found the blade but Bucky was there, suddenly, having found his way out of his immobility, holding Tony’s hands.

“It’s ok sweetheart, stay with me, don’t touch the knife,” Bucky said, voice rough like gravel and Tony didn’t even need to look up at him to know he was crying, too. Bucky’s hands were shaking where they were wrapped around Tony’s, jostling the knife ever so slightly and creating successive waves of agony.

There was a long, thickening river of black red going down the left leg of his pants and drops of blood dripping to the kitchen’s floor and it was bright red against the white tiles and Tony should have known to never use white in a goddamn kitchen and it was all his fault anyway.

Tony didn’t know when or how he ended up laid on the ground, his head and shoulders nestled in Bucky’s lap, the man kissing his forehead and crying his heart out and babbling incoherently, pleading and apologising at the same time. All Tony knew, at the moment, was that they should go to the medbay but his lips were sealed and there were no tears left to shed, just a bone deep exhaustion and the heavy need to sleep.

It was all the point of his coming to the kitchen, anyway, right? Just a quick stop before going to bed and sleeping until next year.

There are sobs wracking Bucky’s body as Tony felt his head lean against the man’s shoulder and it shouldn’t be comfortable but it is. And Bucky smelt like a bakery; warm, sugary things over leather and gun-oil and it was one of the most wonderful, relaxing scents Tony had ever smelled.

Wished he could go to sleep with it every night, just like this time.

***

There’s a bright light shining in his eyes and Helen Cho’s voice, but all Tony could see were big, blue-grey, red-rimmed eyes looking down at him, terrified and still bright with tears.

Tony smiled up at Bucky, the side of his lips crooking up weakly before darkness took him again.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony probably shouldn’t have already been in his workshop, but there was only so much time a guy could spend resting in a hospital bed without going insane and Tony was quickly approaching his limit. His guts were fine, as far as he was concerned, and Helen was confident about his rate of healing, especially with the use of her technology, so, really, there was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t like he would be stupid enough to do any heavy lifting just yet. He knew his muscles, though already mostly reconstructed thanks to Helen’s marvelous brain, were still weak and fragile. The last thing he wanted was to end up back in a goddamned bed.

There was also the concern of one super soldier threatening to sit on him if Tony was to hurt himself again by being reckless and stupid. Bucky’s words, not Tony’s.

Tony had had to sneak stealthily from his hospital room in order to escape Bucky’s mother-henning. The fact that Tony had managed it said something about the poor guy’s lack of sleep. Either that or the bastard had let him go and feigned not seeing anything.

Tony squinted his eyes at nothing, feeling his mouth betraying him as its corners started pulling upward in a shy smile. Bucky was one sneaky son of a bitch. He brought down sandwiches sometimes to keep Tony fed when Tony was too far gone down the rabbit hole to remember he actually needed fuel. Bucky was also a good listener but, more importantly, he was a smart guy who, while he couldn’t keep up with Tony’s level of genius, could certainly use his intelligence with more efficiency than most. His ideas and his solutions weren’t conventional, but Tony wasn’t looking for conventional. Bucky was smart as fuck and it was sometimes terrifying to think about it. Bucky, as the Winter Soldier, had taken down empires and governments, and Tony could definitely see how.

Discussing things with Bucky made ideas pop into his head like weeds in a garden left unsupervised. That, in itself, was amazing and wonderful and Tony was always curious, as much as Bucky seemed to be, to discover what kind of bullshit they would pull off once together. But then, there was also the wit matches, sometimes mixed with crazy engineering and those were the best of times. It would be half-hidden insults distributed with badly concealed smiles while stuff went boom, the workshop left in an utter mess once they were done and they would be laughing like mad men, laying on the soot covered ground.

So, yeah, Bucky might very well have let him go, playing dumb so Tony could finally find his peace away from the sterile room of the medbay. Bucky knew Tony well enough to be conscious that if they didn’t let him go at some point, Tony would do something stupid in order to get away. Restlessness was never a good thing where Tony Stark was concerned.

Here Tony was, now. Alone, sitting idly on a workbench, kicking his legs back and forth and trying to remember how in hell had startled the goddamned Winter Soldier. To be fair, Tony wasn’t expecting Bucky to not hear him coming, had thought the quiet slap of his naked feet on the ground was still loud enough for the super soldier’s hearing. Apparently, Bucky had been too engrossed in his recipe and the precise calculation of each ingredient to be aware of his surroundings.

Which, Tony thought with no small amount of warmth and happiness, said a lot about Bucky’s level of comfort in the tower. He felt safe enough to let himself be focused on what he was doing without feeling the need to remain entirely aware of his environment. Tony refused to think he may have fucked this up for Bucky with his stupidity. He felt shitty enough, he didn’t need to rub salt in a still-open wound.

Idly and distractedly, Tony traced lightly over his shirt where the scar tissue he could now add to his consequent collection was. With a crooked smile, he thought he had been stabbed by the Winter Soldier and survived it. He could probably bitch a bit about it with Natasha and complain about bikinis being ruined for him. They could compare scars and be insufferable assholes, now sharing the kind of story that would turn babies SHIELD agents’ faces as white as a sheet. Nobody had to know Tony had been stabbed because he had startled Bucky while he was baking. Only Helen Cho and the Avengers knew about it and it would stay that way or, so help him, the one responsible for the leak would pay dearly. A life time sentence, at the very least.

… Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. Winter Soldier had been baking in Tony’s kitchen.

A bubble of giggles climbed its way up from his chest and Tony covered his mouth to muffle it, even though he was alone and nobody was there to witness it. Jesus Christ, he knew Bucky liked to cook, but baking was, weirdly enough, something else altogether and Tony couldn’t get over it without cackling stupidly. It was endearingly sweet and awfully adorable and if Tony couldn’t laugh at it, he would certainly find it unbearably unfair.

Bucky had no right to be that cute and keep on showing more and more reasons for Tony to be in love with him.

That battle was a lost cause, Tony had known it for a while now, there was no point in trying to fight off the feelings. They came back to the forefront like a slap to the face and a punch to the guts each time Bucky so much as looked Tony’s way and his eyes, honest to god, started sparkling, be it with mirth, softness, mischief or any kind of thing, really. It was a lost battle. Tony knew it, had made his peace with it - kinda - but it was unfair of Bucky to keep on collecting skills and qualities and even his fucking flaws were insufferably adorable. His grumpiness, the threat level skyrocketing like nobody’s business; Tony loved it all. It didn’t help that Bucky was a cuddler of epic proportions.

Just to make matters worse, Bucky was currently presenting Tony with a trail of cupcakes, standing in front of him with a knowing smirk and fondness crinkling in his eyes.

See?

Unfair.

Tony blinked, coming out of his thoughts slowly and thinking maybe he should have gotten coffee before heading down like a thief. At the time, he had been too afraid of being carried back to medbay, like Natasha had done the first time Tony had run away, which had been all kinds of terrifying, awesome and impressive.

“... Blood sacrifice guaranteed me cupcakes?” Tony blurted out before he could stop himself. Bucky winced and Tony mentally slapped himself. “I mean, I was thinking about raiding the kitchen to steal them, but if you bring them to me, less effort makes it better,” he added with a grin.

“No need to get all ninja on us, they were for you in the first place,” Bucky said, his smile small but genuine.

“What happened to the first batch?”

Tony’s fingers hovered over a cupcake, smiling broadly at what Bucky had done. White icing on top of each of the cupcakes shaped the head of a horse, melted chocolate used to draw happily close eyes with impressive detail. Multicolored cream had been used along one side for the mane and a horn made of sugar sat proudly atop each head.Bucky had made unicorn cupcakes and was smiling proudly as Tony took one, admiring the fine work.

“Clint ate them,” Bucky answered with a shrug. “Which is fine, they weren’t all that great and you couldn’t eat them anyway.” Bucky bit his lips, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. “I’m sorry for what happened in the kitchen,” Bucky mumbled, looking down at the cupcakes.

“Nah,” Tony cut in before Bucky could go any further “I was sleep-deprived and I startled you in the kitchen, not my smartest move, I’ll admit.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed and he looked over Tony’s shoulders, seemingly unable to hold Tony’s gaze. Before he could say anything, though, Bucky squared his shoulders and when he looked at Tony, his eyes held the kind of determination Tony only saw on the battlefield.

“It shouldn’t be a reason nor an excuse,” Bucky said. “It’s not your fault and you as much as the others should be able to walk and go around as sleep deprived as you want to be and be safe to do so.”

Tony’s heart squeezed painfully and he feared those cupcakes might be a goodbye gift. Something Bucky made to soothe their pain when he would tell them he would rather be anywhere else but where he could hurt his friends and family.

But Bucky carried on: “I’m going to do better,” he said. “I scheduled appointments with a therapist, one of those on the list you gave me when I arrived. Miss Deschamps,” he clarified when Tony looked curious, “she’s nice and she’s helping me.”

“I think you’re doing great,” Tony said softly. “You’re around more often, you’re less jumpy and you smile more often. I can see a lot of improvement since you arrived, you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself.”

Bucky nodded slowly. His shoulders had relaxed and there was a new kind of warmth in his eyes when he looked down at Tony, his smile something small and private. Just for Tony to see. “I know. She says as much. But my improvement will go faster and probably easier with professional help. There will be mistakes and setbacks but I will get better and then you can lean on me, sleep-deprived and curious all you want without fearing to be stabbed.”

There was something fragile and tentative in the way Bucky looked at Tony, expectantly and still holding his trail of cupcakes.

“Bold of you to think the threat of stabbing would keep me from leaning on you,” Tony joked and was rewarded with a soft snort. “Beside, I can understand you’d want to stab me after what I put you through with that movie.”

“Oh, Tony no. I’m not mad at you over it-” Bucky started, brows pinched in worry.

“I know,” Tony cut. “I was just joking.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised, sceptical, and Tony knew he was busted. Keeping himself from launching into a useless rant that would do nothing but make things worse, he looked back down to the batch of cupcakes, looking for a distraction. He found it right away and pushed his insecurity in a black trunk on the back of his mind, turned the keys and forgot everything about it.

His whole face pinched as he tried to hold back a coo. “You made them little ears,” he said, unable to keep the awe out of his voice as he hovered a finger over the small white semicircle.

“It’s fondant,” Bucky said, allowing the change of subject. “You can make everything with that, a bit of food coloring, some knife work and all that’s left to do is go wild.”

Goddamnit. Bucky was too fucking adorable for this world and Tony’s chest felt like it was about to burst from all the love gathering there. It felt too tight, too small to contain that great a feeling.

“Can I taste it?”

Tony was still sitting on the workbench, legs kicking idly as Bucky stood before him, so close that the tray he held between them was almost touching Tony’s chest. Tony’s feet kicking on either side of Bucky’s body. It was both too close and not enough and if Tony didn’t find something to occupy himself and keep his mouth busy, he knew he would start blurting shit he definitely shouldn’t.

“‘Course, that’s why I made them and brought them to you. I wasn’t gonna taunt you with them,” Bucky said with a smirk.

He looked pleased with himself, too, bright with pride. It was a really good look on him.

Tony hastily unwrapped one of the cupcakes, feeling tears prickling his eyes as he bit into the baked good. It was just an excuse, just a way to keep his mouth busy and avoid making a fool of himself, but as soon as he bit into it, his taste buds were instantly assaulted with sheer goodness. It was sweet but not too sweet, the thing was all soft and almost melting on his tongue and Tony couldn’t have held back his moan if he had wanted to.

“Did you make cupcakes because I called you cupcake?” he asked, smiling so hard it hurt.

Bucky took a second too long to answer and Tony’s cheeks definitely hurt this time.

“Maybe.”


	5. Chapter 5

As much as Tony loved to revel in tablets offering the possibility to read any and every kind of book one could want, he knew there was something about books no one could replace. He wasn’t particularly fond of books, he’d rather read on his tablet, like he proposed to everyone, but he could admit books offered something a tablet couldn’t. The feel of the pages, the paper’s grain under his finger pads, the weight of it and the smell. Tony could admit the smell couldn’t be replaced by the artificial light of a tablet.

So, despite his best attempts at showing the group of heathens he hosted how good technology was, there was a library available to everyone. It was filled with books of any and every kind, new books were added on a weekly basis, based on the latest ones published and offering old and new books alike. The possibility to drift off in other worlds or discovering new things or living in time periods even the two prehistoric super soldiers didn’t experienced.

Obviously, because Tony was the one rarely using the place, he was the one who had to take care of said library. While there was staff for that, Tony and the rest of the team didn’t feel all that comfortable with having strangers nosing through their belongings and wandering around their floors, especially the common one. That feeling had increased with Bucky’s arrival. So here Tony was, arms full of books threatening the spill over, thanking JARVIS with a grateful smile to the nearest camera when the A.I. opened the door to the library for him.

Natasha and Steve were the ones who took most of the books out of the library, reading them pretty much everywhere they could get comfortable enough and, once done with the books, left them there to be taken care of later. By Tony, of course. Who had to go all over the communal floor to pick up every stray book, knowing well enough that Natasha or Steve would stay glued to their current book so Tony wouldn’t take those with him during his cleaning tour. Bruce sometimes took a book or two, but Tony never had to take care of these. Bruce was always the one bringing them back and putting them in their rightful place.

Clint… Clint was especially sneaky about it. One time, Tony had wondered if Clint ever used the library, thinking birdbrain must have never set foot in the room and was surprised to realize the man had actually borrowed quite a lot of books since the library had opened. Each and every one of them was back in their rightful place as if they’d never left it in the first place. Tony had tried to catch Clint reading, but so far he had had no such luck. Even surprising the man in the vents didn’t warrant any kind of victory, which had been all kinds of disappointing and frustrating.

Bucky, however, was the only one who used the library as his place for reading and it seemed like today was one of his reading days.

Tony entered the room and received a bright smile from over the back of the armchair Bucky was curled up in. Usually the man came, took a book and settled in the library to read, sometimes for hours at a time or for the whole day, not even taking a break to eat. When he finally did leave, Bucky would leave his book on the nearest table and come back to it when he felt like reading again.

“Hiya, Buck-a-roo,” Tony greeted cheerfully.

“Morning, Tony.”

Tony smiled, feeling better all of a sudden, his mood brightened by the simple exchange. It felt warm and soothing and Tony resisted the urge to drop the books and go nudge Bucky a little to the side so Tony could curl up with him and stay there. Hopefully forever.

Since the stabbing thing, and despite the guilt still very much present in Bucky’s whole behavior, they had found their footing again. It wasn’t always easy or carefree, not like it was before they watched Anastasia, but it was also better in more ways than one. Mostly because of their little talk when Bucky had brought down the cupcakes. Bucky came down to the workshop more often, just to talk or ask questions, sometimes just to spend time there and quietly watch Tony work. They were cuddling again, during movie nights, and were slowly finding their way back together, spending sleepless nights watching meaningless movies again. Though now they took the time to make sure nothing could trigger Bucky again.

All in all, they were good again and Tony was relieved that he hadn’t lost one of his most precious friendships.

“What are you reading this time, sugarplum?”

Bucky snorted and Tony grinned as he reached up to put back a book on the shelf. He had thirteen books to put back in their rightful places and, if Bucky didn’t feel like speaking, prefering to read, Tony would know it soon enough. However, Bucky seemed in a mood to share and discuss and there was nothing better than that.

“Harry Potter,” Bucky answered. There was the familiar sound of a closing book and Tony bit back a smile, warmth spreading through his chest. Bucky indeed felt like talking today and sounded quite pleased to engage in small-talk.

“Mhm?” Tony encouraged, groaning a second later as he had to get on the tip of his toes to push, with the very tip of his fingers, the book back into the vacant place. “Met Sirius yet?”

“No, he’s been mentioned but I’m mostly concerned about the dementors,” Bucky said, the frown audible in his voice.

Tony shuddered and dropped the books he was carrying onto the nearest table, turning around to find Bucky looking up at him.

“They’re nasty things,” Tony answered, wrinkling his nose. “You won’t like them.”

“Got the feeling that I wouldn’t.”

Bucky looked down at the book, his frown deepening as he rubbed his chest thoughtfully.

“Black was imprisoned for killing Harry’s parents, right?” He asked quietly.

Shit, Tony thought, panic trickling through his veins when he realized maybe this one might be one of the worst books Bucky could actually be reading. Too many things he could relate to, too many details that could set fire to dry wood. Bucky had been doing well lately, staying focused and stable in situations that had triggered him before. But that, right there? That was a deadly trap waiting to close its jaws on Bucky and Tony’s throats and choke the bond they’d been building back, break it until they couldn’t look at each other ever again.

Tony held this friendship too dearly to give it up so easily.

“Yes, he was,” Tony said, maybe a little too harshly, “and I won’t spoil you about the rest of the book but, before you go and make assumptions, let me assure you this story isn’t what you think it is and definitely nothing like ours.”

“He was their friend,” Bucky choked out, throat closing up around his words. “He betrayed them and he killed them,” he added, biting back a sob. When he looked up at Tony, his eyes were already glassed over, not entirely there, but definitely seeing Tony. “I killed your parents and, just like him, I deserved what I got.”

Tony shook his head, stepping closer until he could perch on the arm of the armchair, threading his fingers into Bucky’s hair, pushing back the strands from his forehead.

“I know we’ve been over this already,” Tony said softly, digging his fingers into Bucky’s scalp and massaging there. Bucky was shaking, his hands resting over the book’s cover, clenching and unclenching. “But I will say it again.”

“I had my own dementors,” Bucky said, like he didn’t hear Tony and maybe he didn’t.

Tony sighed and, knowing Bucky was too far gone to listen carefully, started rambling anyway.

“See, that’s an actually good metaphor. The thing is, however, that you’ve got nothing on the one who killed Harry’s parents. There was betrayal of the worst kind and it’ll only get worse,” Tony admitted, voice even and quiet, now resting his hand on the back of Bucky’s neck, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the skin. “You’re charming and funny. You’ve got wits like nobody’s business and I fucking love that. I dig it so much, you’ve got no idea. Then, I also love the way you’re always down for cuddles. Like, seriously, you’re probably the only one who loves it as much as I do and that’s just a blessing I’ve never dared hope for and I will be forever grateful for it because, believe me, Steve sucks when it comes to cuddles and that’s one of the worst flaws someone can have. Clint and Natasha are good cuddlers but, oh, boy, are you better than them. I’d rather fight a bear bare handed than cuddle them if I can cuddle you instead. You were made for cuddles. And you were made for smiling too,” Tony admitted, nodding to himself. “Like, the way your eyes shine when you smile? That should be criminal.”

Bucky hummed distractedly, the tenseness in his shoulders bleeding away as Tony’s words kept flowing steadily. Tony let himself relax too, resting his back against the side of the backrest. Bucky leaned to the side, his head resting over Tony’s heart. While Tony couldn’t actually see his face, he was fairly sure Bucky was slowly starting to come back to himself.

“I don’t want you to keep feeling guilty over my parents’ death. While you were the one pulling the trigger, you weren’t the one holding the metaphorical gun and pointing it at them. I know that and I know you, too, but guilt is a nasty thing, just like the dementors. But you’ll find your own patronus to fight it back. I want you to be safe,” Tony said softly, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Bucky’s neck. The stress, however, came back when he felt Bucky tense again, his fingers lax a second ago were now clenched tightly in fists. “I like you,” he said quickly, mind reeling to try and find a way to help Bucky find his back way to calmness. “I like you a lot,” he rambled, stress pushing the words out of his mouth faster than he could think them through, “and I don’t want you to feel bad because of me, you should only feel good and safe and loved because that’s what you deserve and that’s what you are. And like, I like it when you’re around and when you look at me and when we’re together so there’s that, right? There’s no reason for you to feel bad if I don’t, right?”

The tenseness kept creeping higher and higher into Bucky’s shoulders the more Tony kept talking and his despair started to do the same.

“Bucky, I think we s-”

Before he could finish his sentence, though, word-vomiting some more, Bucky pushed him as he jumped to his feet.

Tony flailed, trying to remain upright but sitting on the side of the armchair wasn’t offering much support and nothing to hold onto. He fell backward, hitting the back of his head against the edge of some furniture before colliding with the ground. He bit back a yelp and rolled to the side as soon as he could, on his feet almost instantly and ready to defend himself but nothing came. Bucky was out of the library and nowhere in sight.

Tony felt a spike of fear, entirely too aware that any fight in here couldn’t end well. Tony wasn’t prepared and there was no distance between them and if Bucky came on him like this, Tony didn’t stand much of a chance. And he was not ready to get a repeat of the Anastasia movie night. Hospitals sucked and the way Bucky had avoided him like the plague was even worse.

“JARVIS, track Bucky down, I think we’ve got a situation,” he barked, striding forward after Bucky.

“I believe that won’t be necessary,” the A.I. said, however, voice calm and collected as always. “Mr. Barnes has retreated to his quarters and locked himself in his room.”

Tony froze, frowning. It wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but not exactly the usual either. During those kind of episode, Tony generally ended up bloody and battered before it was all over.

“Is he alright?”

“Mr. Rogers has been alerted to the situation and is currently making his way toward their shared floor,” JARVIS informed.

“I guess that is good,” Tony said carefully.

“I also took the liberty to inform the medical bay that you will be paying them a visit.”

“Will I?” Tony asked, looking up at the nearest camera, confused.

“Considering you are bleeding from a head wound, I believe you are, yes.”

Tony startled, threading his fingers along his scalp and wincing when he caught what will be some impressive bump. His fingers came back bloody, which might also explain why the back of his shirt felt slightly wet.

“This looks more like it,” Tony groaned, bitter.

Bloody? Check. Battered? Not so much, but he wasn’t about to complain. At least Bucky was safe and would soon be with someone supportive that wouldn’t fuck it all up like Tony had.


	6. Plus one

Apparently, being attacked a few times by a triggered Bucky Barnes granted you access to some kind of sixth sense, allowing you to know before it happened again.

To be fair, bringing Bucky at a charity event was probably not their best idea, but the guy had been fiercely defending his right to come along and had straight up growled at Natasha when she pointed out that he should concentrate on recovering and take advantage of the time he had before it was mandatory of him to attend these kind of events. So, Bucky was there, throwing himself in the deep end with people all around him, chatting away. He had been doing great so far, charming and smiling his way through, but it was starting to change.

From the other side of the room, Tony could see Bucky’s eyes jumping from one point to another, white showing around the edges, too visible to be reassuring. Bucky was freaking out and Steve was too occupied with one old lady to see it. Clint had disappeared, probably under some table from where he was certainly eating his way through canapés and drinking straight from one stolen bottle of wine. Natasha was nowhere to be seen and Tony would have found it disturbing if he hadn’t had something more important to worry about.

Like, say, the possibility of Bucky lashing out in the middle of a civilian-filled room. The man wouldn’t live it down and would probably rather seclude himself afterward than live with the possibility of such a thing happening again.

Excusing himself from his conversation with Ernest, an old acquaintance Tony was usually happy to talk to, Tony gave his flute of champagne to a waitress as he made his way toward Bucky.

As soon as he was close to Bucky, Tony realized that, while on the edge of a relapse, Bucky was still very much in control. When he saw Tony approaching, his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as his features betrayed his relief. Plastering ona charming smile, Tony curled his fingers around Bucky’s arm and leaned against him as he looked at the group Bucky had been talking to.

“Sorry to barge in but I gotta rob you from this handsome’s presence for a bit,” he said, feeling a thrill of unexpected warmth when Bucky wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulders, pulling him closer until his side was plastered against Bucky’s. His hold on the super soldier’s arm lost, Tony gave in to the urge to wrap his arm around Bucky’s waist. The effect was almost instantaneous: Bucky relaxed and leaned into him.

Ignoring the chorus of saddened ladies, Tony steered Bucky away and glanced at him. While less tense and not feeling like a wall of bricks pressed up against his side, there was an unmistakable strain to Bucky’s shoulders. The lines around his eyes were tense as well but the fingers curled against Tony’s side were lax and not bruising, which was definitely a good sign.

They were walking slowly as to not attract any attention to them but fast enough to get away from the civilians’ filled room. The loud chatter was starting to fade away as Tony lead them farther away.

“He looked like him,” Bucky said suddenly, voice tense and face ashen.

“Like who?”

When Tony saw the door he had been hoping to find, he had to held back a sigh of relief. He pushed the door to the men’s bathroom and guided Bucky inside. Tony locked the door behind them and made sure the bolt would actually work if someone tried to get in before the situation was cleared.

“Pierce,” Bucky whispered, looking haunted.

“Pierce is dead, Fury killed him,” Tony said as he reluctantly let go of Bucky’s elbow to make sure they were alone, opening every stalls door. Once certain the room was empty, Tony turned around, his heart giving a painful squeeze at Bucky’s pitiful appearance. Despite his large shoulders and how handsome he had looked in his tux, at this very moment he looked terrified and on the verge of a panic attack. Trying to calm his racing heart, Tony evened out his breathing and spoke steadily, voice gentle and soothing. “Even if Pierce wasn’t dead, we wouldn’t let him get to you,” he assured him, voice steady and assured, speaking of certainty and assurance. “You’re safe. You’re not alone anymore and we’re here for you.”

Bucky looked up from where he was hunched over himself, shoulders tense and curled protectively. It was dangerous and reckless, but Tony couldn’t help himself, he opened his arms, knowing all too well how much Bucky loved physical affection. “ _I’m_ here for you,” he finished, emphasizing the first word with a soft smile.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Bucky stumbled the two steps separating them and accepted Tony’s hug, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Tony rubbed his back gently.

“You’re safe,” he said quietly, “you’re not alone, Bucky.”

Bucky’s arms came around him, hands clutching at the back of Tony’s suit, and slowly, oh, so slowly, the man started to relax. His breathing evening out, except for a shaky breath every now and then, rarer with each passing minute. Tony kept whispering nonsense, his voice soothing and his words meant for just the two of them.

It seemed Tony would manage to keep Bucky safe and calm this time around, despite how disastrously every previous attempt had gone. One out of six was good, he thought with only a little bitterness. It was something. Bucky wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt, this time.

Tony was starting to relax too, the tension in his shoulders vanishing with each steady breath Bucky took. Right up until some asshole tried to get into the bathroom and found the door locked. He banged on the door, once, then twice, cursing loudly all the while, trying the door’s knob again and finding it still locked.

In his arms, Bucky jumped, startled, and reeled back.

Tony saw red. Lips curling on a quiet snarl, he let his arms fall down until he held Bucky’s hands in his, rubbing soothing circles on them. He wanted nothing more than to pull Bucky back and hug him again but something told him it wouldn’t be wise nor safe.

“What about you turn around and try another restroom, you jerk? Or are you too dumb to get the message when a room’s locked?”

The guy kicked the door angrily: “I’m not looking somewhere else just because you got yourself some slut to fuck in there. Do it where you belong: near the trashs instead of good people’s bathroom!”

Tony took a deep breath, smiled sweetly up at Bucky and, before he could think better of it, kissed him on the cheek. “Be right back, tesoro, I’m not leaving,” he whispered gently.

He squeezed Bucky’s hands gently before letting go and making a beeline for the door. Luckily enough, instead of pushing Bucky deeper into his panicked state, the situation seemed to actually bring him back. Which was a good thing but Tony wasn’t comfortable in leaving him like he was. Would rather stay with Bucky right in his arms, where he fitted more than Tony would have guessed or dare thinking. He knew being hugged or cuddled by Bucky was, like, the best thing on Earth, but Tony had never thought being the one to hug Bucky like he was doing before that jackass ruined everything.

Tony was _not_ going to waste any time on that piece of garbage which was now banging on the door again, cursing loudly.

Tony unlocked the door with brutal efficiency and jerked it open but when the man tried to get in, pushing the door further, Tony shoved him back. Anger twisted his guts but when he looked at the middle-aged man now staring at him in horror, Tony smiled sweetly, showing the barest hint of teeth.

“Right, so, now that I’ve got your attention.” Tony started casually, the upper part of his body leaning forward but making sure to stay in Bucky’s line of sight. “I’m going to give you a little lesson in manners.” The rest of his rant, in ushered venomous whispers, made the guy go from white to green, passing by an interesting shade of orange. Once he was done, the douchebag nodded numbly and staggered into the hallway, taking to the right instead of the left Tony had indicated him to find another restroom. While an utter asshole when provoked, Tony wasn’t unfair either and if he was occupying a whole bathroom for himself, he could indicated the nearest one. All the while making the guy freak the fuck out about pissing off an avengers.

Once the guy disappeared at the next corner, Tony slammed the door shut, cursing in Italian under his breath.

“I think I love you,” Bucky blurted and Tony’s eyes snapped up to stare at him. “I-I-I mean,” Bucky stuttered, eyes wide when he realized the expanse of his mouth’s betrayal and mouth working a mile a minute. “I think I do because that’s the only explanation I got. When you’re there, there’s stuff tickling my guts and I hate the feeling as much as I love it because when I feel it it means you’re there. But then I feel all weird an’ like my skin’s too tight and that’s not normal. I don’t remember feeling that before and it freaks me out and when you’re there and it gets too bad, I-I need to do something, anything”

It took Tony a lot of considerable effort in order to swallow his words without choking on them.

“You mean,” he said carefully, “that when you freak out, you stab me because you like me?”

Bucky looked utterly devastated but he still nodded, bashful.

“Kinda,” he said slowly. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Fuck, we’re idiots,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Tony?”

Sighing deeply, the genius groaned and opened his eyes to see Bucky, staring worriedly at him. The despair in his eyes wasn’t from embarrassment anymore and Tony couldn’t let it keep on going this way. Not when he knew it was unnecessary, what with the giddiness pressing against his ribs, threatening to spill out and overtake him, sending him in a wild, crazy dance around the restroom.

Bucky liked him, Tony thought, his lips fighting back a smile and still feeling it creeping up his face, his cheeks hurting from the strength of it.

Bucky watched him, carefully curious and downright confused when Tony curled his fingers in the loops of Bucky’s slacks and pulled him the rest of the way. Tony had to crane his head back in order to watch the way Bucky’s eyes widened in realization. Tony smiled softly, revealing in the way he could feel each of Bucky’s intake of breath, the brush of their chest in an even, comforting pattern. The heat coming off of the super soldier soothing like a warm pad over aching muscles.

Slowly, Bucky laid his hands on Tony’s hips, fingers first holding hesitantly before he took confidence and laid them flat.

“You like me back?” Bucky whispered, looking down at him, awe shining bright in his clear, grey blue eyes.

“Yeah,” Tony said, grinning up at him, “I just so happened to prove it by proposing to blow shit up together instead of panicking and stabbing.”

Bucky smiled bashfully. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ll have to work on that.”

“Or you could just kiss me. I mean, it’s a nice way to relax and also it might make us feel both better, what do you think?”

There wasn’t much space left between them but Bucky erased it entirely, stepping forward between Tony’s legs, his hips flush against Tony’s and his hands now holding firmly onto Tony’s hips, his fingers spread and just above the swell of Tony’s ass. He was still shy, maybe a little unsure, but there was the beginning of confidence creeping slowly but steadily in his eyes. The kind Bucky had had at the very beginning, when Tony had proposed him to fix a car together. Bucky had fiddled with the tools, asking questions he already knew the answers of, just to make sure, just to be reassured. Now, they worked together flawlessly and Bucky had regain his confidence. Tony was fairly sure the same would be said about this, whatever this was, later.

“I could do that, I suppose, yes,” Bucky said, voice low and rumbling deep in his chest, his lips brushing against Tony’s.

Yup, Tony thought with a bright smile, Bucky might even regain his goddamn confidence faster than expected.

“You,” Tony groaned, fisting a handful of Bucky’s buttoned shirt and pulling him down, “are a tease.”

Tony kissed him, or maybe it was Bucky but their lips met and the way Bucky’s fingers tightened their hold on Tony was amazing. It wasn’t the heat inducing kind of kiss, with fever growing as fast as blood rushed south, more the knees weakening kind of kiss. A slow brush of lips, hint of teeth nibbling and nipping. Tony linked his arms behind Bucky’s neck, one of his hand playing with the short hair there, carding through the longest strands.

It felt like a bubble expanding in his chest, growing and pushing at his seams but there was no fear. Not yet, anyway.

Bucky licked at Tony’s bottom lip, nipping gently before resting his forehead against Tony’s, looking down at the genius, eyes soft and liquid.

Tony smiled up at him, feeling all loose and soft. “What do you think of trashing this party, going back home and cuddling shamelessly while eating ice cream?”

Bucky laughed, his eyes crinkling in the best way. Happiness looked good on him, Tony thought distractedly. “I like the way you think.”

When Bucky took his hands to lead him out, his fingers intertwining with Tony’s, hope and love and happiness bloomed in Tony’s chest. Just the way Bucky had described it, it felt like it was pushing at the seams of his skin and his chest felt too small for such a great feeling.


End file.
